È Amore?
by sleepy.cat.zzz
Summary: Cantarella drabbles that revolve around a cannony CesareChiaro couple.
1. Selfish

hiya. trying something new, in a new fandom. kinda came out like a inner monologue in third person, but that's okay with me and my beta! in compliance to the 30 romances community of livejournal.

Fandom: Cantarella  
**Title: Intruder in Eden  
**Alternative Title: Selfish  
Theme: 17. Garden Vista; Elysium El Dorado; Carnaval  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: Here's me, not owning. Cantarella belongs to You Higuri.

* * *

Chiaro had a bad habit of finding his way into beautiful people's garden. These people weren't only beautiful, they were saintly.

First was Prince Djem, the suicidal songbird with the face of an angel. He was lured to the Turk through his siren's song, and, for a while, Cesare worried he had lost the shinning light that led him to his second savior. But when he saw the darkness around the brooding prince, his fear vanished as the prince's thin veneer of indifference was ripped off, showing Cesare that Djem's acquaintance with Chiaro was just as selfish as his. But Cesare actually cared for Chiaro; to Djem, the assassin was just a means to his end. But Chiaro actually care for the bastard, which would have made it all the more painful when he was forced to kill the professional hostage to "save" Cesare from a bloody death. It yanked something Cesare would swear were his heartstrings to think of his light being used in such a fashion, so he did the killing for him with the quick poison that welled from his black heart, barring the gates to this particular Garden Vista.

They were as happy as they could be, for a time, acting the roles of cardinal and friend. A friend who spent all his time either with his cardinal or vanished somewhere only the same cardinal knew. Even Volpe, who mildly hated Chiaro for being even more devoted to Cesare than he was, felt that something had changed between his master and his master's friend. They were drifting apart, Cesare throwing himself into the fulfillment of his vision of a war-torn world, Chiaro trying to find some redemption for following the devil.

Then Chiaro found his personal salvation, in another Garden of Eden, specifically in Cesare's sister. She was innocent, her only sin being her love of her brother, the intimate type of love that reeked on incest. In some way, she found her savior in the same man her brother did, and in a manner the elder sibling had only dreamed of. A seething rage of jealously rushed through Cesare every time he thought of Lucrezia stealing a little more of his loyal companion every time he glimpsed her. It faintly registered in the back of his head that Chiaro was chipping away and the firm foundation of trust that made Lucrezia such a good pawn, but the demon inside him was calling for her blood more than his, despite what it would mean for it if Chiaro returned to Cesare's waiting arms.

And Chiaro would return, or at least Michelotto would. Despite her single sin, Lucrezia was innocent and would turn away the love of an assassin, despite the times he saved her. Yes, Cesare wasn't worried about losing Chiaro this time, just worried about the condition he would come back in. Despite disobeying the sixth commandment "thou shall not kill" more times than he wished to admit, Chiaro wasn't capable of malicious thought of others, only of himself, the rejection would crush Chiaro. When he was turned down by his mistress, Michelotto would return gladly from his brief release from guilt and return to the deserts outside Eden, back to temptation, back to the devil, back to Cesare. He might, in despair, even return that token of romance he had given the blond so long ago.

But even if he didn't, he would help Cesare raze the God-fearing world and create a new one in his own image. There, and only there, could Cesare be truly happy, letting his emotions free for the first time since childhood while basking in Chiaro's glow. And maybe, if Cesare leap that last hurdle, Chiaro would finally stop trying to scale the walls of the pure, distant El Dorado, at last content being a denizen of the dark and sin.


	2. SideEffects

another go. there aren't that many readers for this fandom eh?

* * *

Fandom: Cantarella

Title: Side-effects

Theme: 2. The subconscious, Bury

Rating: G

Disclaimer: You…Higuri owns this.

* * *

Cesare shivered despite the warmth of the midsummer's night, the warmth of the covers, and the heat from Chiaro's body. He buried his head in the blond's chest, feeling his nose brush against the smooth flesh underneath the loose nightshirt Chiaro wore. A grimace built up in his throat, threatening to come out a whimper of pain. Cesare quickly swallowed it down; he had that damned vow to uphold after all. Chiaro rubbed his hands in comforting circles across the suffering man's back, hesitating as he felt the bones and muscles ripple unnaturally under the skin.

The slight discontinuation of the relaxing motion increased Cesare's determination to force the demon away from any part of him Chiaro was touching, not a hard feat but as the malformed wings stopped threatening to break through the skin on his back, claws started to rip through the parts of Chiaro's shirt his fists grasped. Cesare had to get this under control, if Chiaro was repelled from the transformation and vanished entirely, where would he be then? From the back of his mind, something sinister started answering, but Cesare put a tight clamp on that poisonous voice before it could seep into his mind, or worse, out his mouth.

Normalcy was an act he valiantly tried to pretend he was avoiding. But if someone up there was listening, Cesare vowed he would suffer rebirth to be without this demon, this parasite that made him reliant on Chiaro. Although Chiaro himself wasn't a negitive element in his life, in fact, Chiaro was one of two good things to come from this curse he father bestowed upon him before birth and Cesare would fight against the fiend trapped in his skin to keep Chiaro.

He would fight to bury the black, all consuming void deeper and deeper into his soul until it couldn't escape again; until his blood ran clean, it's only taste the disgusting blend of copper and red instead of the tantalizing sweet of poison. He would do anything to keep Chiaro by his side, anything for the one person who could wash away his sins. So Cesare fought, poured everything he could spare into forcing the demon back until he only heard the vaguest whispers from the deepest caves of his mind, fighting to lock the mental gates between it and the outside world, pouring everything he could into barring the corners of his subconscious, unfortunately locking up his heart in the process, but if it would keep Chiaro safe and by his side…

(a line)(a line)(a line)(a line)(a line)(a line)(a line)(a line)(a line)

Cesare woke the next morning, the nighttime sweat still sticking his hair to his face. Dimly he noted something missing, the quiet in his head and in the room pressing against his senses. But his mind was already too busy planning for the next leg of his campaign for the bloody rebirth of the world. He sat up and got out of bed slowly, his muscles protesting vainly out of a source-less soreness. He planted his hand to hoist himself out but paused when he felt the fresh warmness and smelt something that smelt lightly of leather polish and thyme. He quickly dismissed it though and left the once tempting cocoon of covers to start another day.

Outside the window, in the huge tree, Chiaro sat, a twist of a smile playing across his mouth as he watched his master prepare for a new day. He knew the basics of what Cesare went through those nights he unconsciously cried in pain and agony yet he still cherished those nights as bright points in his life. They were the few times that Cesare allowed any emotion to pass through his rigid mask, and the few times he allowed Chiaro to comfort him before burying his essence deep inside with the demon.


	3. An Unorthedox Plot

pour Minisuko, le seulment critque et qui a donne l'insparation j'ai du a ecrire la chapitre. merci!

* * *

Fandom: Cantarella

Title: An Unorthodox Plot

Author:

Theme: 28. Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?

Rating: G

Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I be waiting desperately for vol. 7?

* * *

_"Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?" _the actor belted from his perch in the scenery.

I think something was lost in translation, but I don't speak English, so I'll take what I can get.

_"Deny my father and refuse thy name;"_

I found it a little sad that I saw Cesare in Juliet, battling his father at every step and wrestling himself out of his family's shadow. Did that make me Romeo then?

_"Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,  
And I'll no longer be a Capulet."_

Ah, our roles are now reversed, Juliet reflects me, and Cesare is the one doing all the work, for once. That seems a little more realistic though; I mean, those who see Cesare at a weak woman are going to get a shock. Mind you, I would probably get a silent treatment if Cesare saw me comparing us to characters in a love play, and an English play. An 'uncouth' language he calls it. But it's stupid anyways, comparing us to them. There really aren't that many parallels, really.

_"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;  
Thou art thyself, though not Montague.  
What's Montague?" _

Damn, another parallel, Cesare and I shouldn't have met, he being noble and me a peasant, and him being in a church man and me a murderer. But, like them, we've come together and found something in each other that makes it all right to know one another, even with the different labels. I doubt that any force in the world could sanction… But is it so wrong to love someone; even if it is the wrong person? If I asked a clergyman, he'd probably say that either I or Cesare was temptation, and we should fight it; probably me, seeing as Cesare is one of them after all. Who am I trying to fool though? I'm nothing to Cesare, not really, just someone to get him what he wants and where he wants to go. The… is just a perk of having someone like me dangling off his arm. I'm surprised he hasn't abused my loyalty yet.

_"I take thee at thy word:  
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;  
Henceforth I never will be Romeo." _

Maybe I am Romeo after all, falling over himself for his Juliet, or my Cesare. Although I think I'm more than that pansy, I have shed my name for Cesare after all. Every time he asks me to kill, I lose Chiaro and get to be Michelotto, the legend. He always seems so reluctant to like the legend though, which is a little odd. After all, it's a lot safer for both of us if I'm the masked legend, it keeps Chiaro safe, it keeps Cesare safe, and it adds a bit more power to Cesare, to be able to control the famous assassin. But I think he like Chiaro better, I don't know why, I would have thought someone like Cesare would like the cold-hearted Michelotto better, but maybe… No, I'm just setting myself up for a fall. That's the problem with Cesare; he only confuses the people close to him. Everyone else sees him as the bastard son of the Pope. But I wish I knew where I stood with him; maybe then Chiaro would get the courage to try to get a little closer to his Juliet.


	4. A Glass of Chardonnay

I'm not dead!!! I'm just facing real life...so yes, another challenge fic. I thought I would have troubles thinking this one up (i mean really, how many times in the manga do they refer to pink, i don't think even lucezia (sp) wears it) but the concept came pretty easily...

* * *

Fandom: Cantarella  
Title: A Glass of Chardonnay  
Author: sleepy.cat.zzz  
Rating: G  
Theme: 7. Think pink ; Blow  
Disclaimer: insert witty comment about not owning...

* * *

Cesare had retired to his chambers for the night after a tedious official dinner. The decadence of food disgusted him and was rival only by the company: hateful old men of sizable girth and slovenly or wizened bird-thin corpses who complained louder than carrion crows. So he was in a despicable mood when he bolted the door.  
"You're in a despicable mood." Cesare spun around in surprise, one hand reaching in his sleeve for the slim knife hidden there. But it was only Chiaro who had snuck into his room.  
"Please refrain from surprising me like that in the future," Cesare sighed, tossing his cardinal cap onto the paper-strewn desk.  
"I thought there was another course ... or seven," Chiaro laughed from his perch against Cesare's headboard, the most comfortable place in the Spartan room. He was dressed for a night of sulking, Cesare thought, glancing at Chiaro's close-cut black shirt and pants, the odd streaks of charcoal still in his hair. Cesare wearily removed his cardinal red robe, tossing it in the hamper and keeping up an almost lively dialogue.  
"Do I want to know where you've been?"  
"Probably not."  
"How are our Jewish friends?"  
"Very well behaved,"  
"Delightful," Cesare finished, his mood lifting slightly. He flopped ungracefully on his bed over Chiaro's legs. There was a gawky squawk from somewhere on his left and the limbs trapped by this waist twitched. Feeling much better, Cesare wiggled into a more comfortable position and was feeling much more relaxed: until a chuckle sounded from the end of the bed.  
"Chiaro? May I ask what you find so amusing?" Cesare asked warily.  
"Think pink," was the cryptic answer, but Cesare understood and bolted up. As he dreaded, once hidden under the red robes was a very pink stain of epic proportions dribbling down his chest and lap, largest over this thighs but reddest on his chest.  
"What happened?" Chiaro asked, trying hard not to laugh.  
"That twitchy Cardinal Berachyah, may his hand get caught in a door, dumped his wine in my lap then Cardinal Batali, the fat slug, told everyone in a five foot radius that white wine would take the stain out, and yes, poured his glass in my lap." Cesare huffed without any real anger behind his words.  
"Then you stormed back here,"  
"Well yes."  
"The white wine worked fairly well," Chiaro commented, glancing critically at the stains. A bizarre feeling nagged at the edge of Cesare mind, most would consider the blow to his ego "embarrassment". But he ignored it and turned, trying to pull the stained garment off but it was being irritating and stuck wetly to his chest.  
"Need some help?" Chiaro laughed. Cesare didn't answer but Chiaro tried to help anyways. 


End file.
